


Double Standards

by truealpharoar



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Alex Mercer Has Bad Parents (Julie and The Phantoms), Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bisexual Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Captivity, Creepy, Dark, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Inappropriate Behavior, Like, M/M, Mentions of conversion therapy, Minor Character Death, My Poor Boys, Non-Consensual Kissing, Reggie Peters Has Bad Parents (Julie and The Phantoms), Reggie has ADHD, So much trauma, Therapy, Trauma, Well almost, all of the trauma, also visible, but maybe that isn't a good thing after all, i love them i promise, mentioned corpse - Freeform, protective!Ray, reggie has ptsd, the boys are tangible, very dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28926603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truealpharoar/pseuds/truealpharoar
Summary: Reggie Peters has always been a fan of flirting. He's also always been a fan of kissing. So why, when a gorgeous woman approaches him and flirts with him, does he feel so wrong about it? And why do his friends seem to be so upset?(Warning: Very Dark, An Adult Woman makes Advances, Reggie is understandably uncomfortable)
Relationships: Alex Mercer & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Julie Molina/Luke Patterson, Ray Molina & Reggie Peters
Comments: 70
Kudos: 109





	1. The Darkest Hour

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction ever please go easy on me!

So, life had been crazy recently. Along with being tangible now, Reggie had found out that now people could see him, Alex, and Luke - and not just when they played! Alex was freaking out over it, but the other two had been ecstatic. Luke, because he could now cuddle with Julie and hug Julie and hold hands with Julie- if Reggie heard one more gushy comment about Julie from his friend, he was going to scream. It wasn’t that Reggie wasn’t happy for his friend - he was! He was really happy! It was just the fact that Luke had talked his ear off.

But Reggie was happy, too. His encounters with Ray could now be double-sided! That was _amazing_. What was also amazing was the incredible world of what video games had become, that Carlos had introduced him to. The two of them had spent countless hours on the Molina’s switch together, most of which lasted long into the early hours of morning - much to Ray’s chagrin. There was also the fact that Reggie could now flirt with people, girls and guys alike. He had been very flirtatious when he had been alive - there was nothing more fun than sending the right wink or comment someone’s way and watching them fall apart - and that remained. The guys part was new, though, having started after Reggie had his awakening. When Julie had come out to the band, Reggie had been so happy to learn that yes, that was a thing! He wasn’t broken after all!

All of which led to where he was, right at this very moment. Julie and the Phantoms had just played a gig, at the same cafe that they had first performed Finally Free. They were dismantling the instruments, carrying them out to Ray’s car. They still had the ability to poof, sure, but the sad part about them being visible was that now Julie insisted they had to act like normal, living people.

Reggie could still remember their first performance after the Orpheum, when they had poofed their instruments off the stage once the applause had ended - and Julie had nearly had a heart attack. At least, that’s what she said. Reggie wasn’t too sure, because as far as he could tell Julie was a perfectly healthy teenager, and perfectly healthy teenagers didn’t get heart attacks. Alex had reassured him that they didn’t. Anyways, Julie was apparently angry at them, because for some reason she had decided to drop the whole ‘hologram’ schtick, claiming that lying was getting to be a hassle. Reggie trusted Julie’s judgement, though - after all, that miracle girl hadn’t steered them wrong before - as did Luke and Alex.

Back to the present. Reggie dumped his bass in Ray’s car, walking back into the café to help Alex with his drums. Before he could get back on stage, though, he felt someone tapping him on the shoulder. He turned around to look who it was, being greeted face-to-face with a girl about his age - seventeen, that was - who was smiling ear to ear. She had long, curly red hair that cascaded down her back, and freckles. Reggie was a sucker for freckles. “Hey! You’re the bassist, right?” The girl greeted, and Reggie couldn’t help but smile. Hell yeah, that was him! He was the bassist! He shot a sympathetic look back at the rest of the band, Luke giving him a thumbs up while Alex rolled his eyes and Julie looked confused, before turning back to the girl.  
  


“Yeah, that’s me.” He responded chipperly, shooting the girl his signature smile. “Name’s Reggie, don’t wear it out.” He winked at the girl, and she burst out into laughter, a gigantic grin on her face. Cute girl was laughing at his joke. Then it was the girl’s turn to blow him out of the water, her next comment making butterflies light up in his stomach.  
  


“I’m Alice. Tell your friends.” Okay, so maybe it wasn’t technically flirting, but it was his thing! Cute girl - Alice - had said Reggie’s thing! He beamed at her, excited to talk to this girl and get to know her, maybe even get her number if he was lucky. Unfortunately, though, it looked like luck was not in Reggie’s cards for the night, as a woman walked over to the two of them, shooting a stern look at the girl.  
  


“Alice, what did I tell you about flirting with boys? Go out to the car, your father’s waiting.” He was confused for a moment, wondering who the heck this strange woman was - was she Alice’s sister? Why was Alice’s sister telling her to go to the car? His questions were answered by Alice’s next comment, as the cute girl’s face soured.  
  


“Ugh, mom!” She complained, glaring at the woman - this was definitely a woman, maybe in her thirties? Probably in her thirties. “I’m not flirting with him!” _Oh. Well, that’s a downer._ “I was just trying to get some bass guitar tips! He’s with Julie and the Phantoms - “ Reggie interrupted with a quick “Tell your friends!” - “and you know how much I like them!”  
  


The woman shot her daughter a firm look, and the girl stomped off out of the café - presumably to their car? Maybe not. Regardless, maybe he’d dodged a bullet there. This girl seemed a bit too stuck-up for his taste. Well, whatever, now he could help Alex with his drums. Reggie turned around, taking a couple of steps towards the stage, before he stopped suddenly.  
  


“What’d you say your name was, sweetheart? Reggie? Is that short for something?” He looked back at the woman, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Uh, yeah. Reginald. Why?” The woman took a couple of steps towards him, so he turned fully back around. It was rude to ignore adults when they were talking to you, after all. And sure, maybe there were some times when being rude to adults was badass, but this woman just seemed like she was trying to make friendly conversation. No reason to be rude, there.

The woman smiled, and Reggie was made intensely aware of the dark red lipstick that coated her lips. What color was that? Maroon? No, maroon was more pink. Maybe scarlet? No, no, scarlet was orange. Or maybe green? HIs thoughts were interrupted when the woman cleared her throat, looking at him expectantly. “Well, Reginald?” He blanched. Okay, so maybe he hadn’t been purposefully rude to the lady, but maybe he had been rude nonetheless. “Did you say something?”

“I asked if you knew where the bathroom was.” Reggie nodded and, eager to make up for being rude to this poor woman, he answered her with a “Yeah! It’s this way, follow me.” He turned around and started walking towards it. They had played this venue a couple of times, and even though Reggie didn’t need to use the bathroom, being a ghost and all, he liked looking at the wallpaper in the bathroom. It was one of those wallpapers that had words on them - this one had newspapers, and the newspapers had actual headlines. Reggie was determined to read all of the headlines of the newspapers. He was probably about a third of the way done at this point. 

They were almost all of the way to the bathroom when Reggie felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked at the woman, confused. He was made even more confused when she…. Licked her lips? Okay, that was weird behavior. Were her lips dry? Maybe she needed chapstick. Reggie didn’t have any. Maybe he could go get some for her? “Hold on, I’ll go get you some chapstick.” He said, about to walk away when the grip on his shoulder tightened and she laughed. And then placed her other hand on his other shoulder. Okay, super weird. Did she want to dance? This was a weird place to be dancing.

“You know, Reginald, you are quite the dashing young man, if I do say so myself.” He blushed. Or, at least, he would’ve if he could still blush. That was quite the compliment, coming from a woman as gorgeous as the one in front of him! And she was really pretty. But she also looked old enough to be his mom. “Thanks.” He said, voice coming out slightly higher pitched than normal. He cleared his throat - maybe singing had done a number on it. Never mind the fact that he hadn’t had a sore throat since 1995. He also had a weird feeling in his stomach, Reggie noticed. The kind of feeling that he got right before really big gigs - namely, the performance at the Orpheum.

And then the woman’s hand had moved from his shoulder to cup his cheek, and Reggie was _really_ confused. What the hell was going on? He took a step back, trying to get away from this weird lady, and she narrowed her eyebrows at him. She was looking at him as if he had done something wrong…. Shit, had he done something wrong? “I thought you were more mature than that, Reginald.” She said, and while her words confused him, they confirmed that yep, he had definitely done something wrong. He stepped back towards her.

And then her hands were on him again, one on his shoulder and one on his side and the one on his side was sneaking lower and lower and- okay, this was strange. Reggie might’ve been slow on the uptake, but this was definitely wrong. Her hands felt like ice, and he started to shiver. Was he cold? He didn’t get cold, not anymore. How was he cold?

“I’m seventeen.” He squeaked out, voice now _much_ higher than normal. The woman narrowed her brow. “And I’m a gorgeous lady who I’m sure your peers would swoon over if they saw. Are we done stating the obvious?” And then her face was getting closer to his and he was squeezing his eyes shut and yep, this was definitely wrong, so wrong, but maybe it wasn’t because the woman _was_ pretty -

But before their faces met, the woman was being ripped away from him, and Reggie heard - was that a growl? - Followed by what was definitely Ray’s voice yelling “Get your hands off my son!” and then there were hands on him again, hugging him tightly, but these didn’t feel like ice. These hands felt right, felt calming, and as Reggie slowly opened his eyes he saw, over Ray’s shoulder - Ray was the one hugging him, that made sense - his Tia Victoria punching the woman in the face. “Hey, hey, mijo. Mijo, you’re okay. We’re going to go out to the car, alright?” Reggie noticed that he was still shaking. He also noticed that, for some reason, Ray sounded like he was really far away.

Everything felt really far away, in fact. Reggie looked down at his hands, which also felt really far away, even though they were attached to him. It felt like he was floating. Or watching television. Actually, it didn’t feel like either of those things. It felt more like he was in stasis, like he had been frozen in carbonite. Was carbonite real? He knew that _carbon_ was real, but was carbonite? He’d ask Julie later. Or maybe he’d look it up, using that fancy Goggle that Julie had mentioned.

And then Reggie noticed that he was in the car. When had he gone out to the car? He was in front of the bathroom with the woman only a moment ago - all of a sudden Reggie was shaking, shaking badly, and all he could think about was that _woman_ and her _hands_ and how she had _looked at him like he was some kind of animal_ . Like he was a gazelle and she was a lioness, going in for the kill. Reggie’s breathing quickened, but then he felt a hand on his shoulder and he was brought back to reality by - was that Alex’s voice? - saying “Hey, Reg, are you okay?” 

And all he wanted to do was scream _NO, I’m not okay, ‘Lex, I’m not okay at all!_

But instead all he said was, in a very small voice, “Yeah. Fine.”


	2. Dibs on the Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are arguing, Julie's frustrated, and nobody's quite sure what's going on with Reggie

Luke wasn’t an idiot. Okay, no, maybe he was an idiot, but he wasn’t an idiot when it came to knowing when something was wrong with Reggie. And when the drive back home had been awkwardly silent, and every time he had sent a glance his bandmate’s way the dude had been staring out the window with glassy eyes? Yeah, something was wrong with Reggie.

He also knew better than to push, though - that was, until Reggie walked out of the car and into the studio, only seconds after the car pulled up in the driveway. He looked an odd mix between determined and out of it, a mix that kinda sorta reminded him of how Alex looked when he had his panic attacks. Except, no, it didn’t look like that at all.   
  
Luke was racing into the studio after his friend before anyone could stop him, though he was vaguely aware of Julie calling after him. But he needed to get to Reggie. That was what was on his mind, first and foremost - he had to get to Reggie. As he stepped through the studio doors after his bandmate, though, he was met face to face with Alex, who had poofed into the room. And Alex was currently blocking his way to Reggie.   
  
“Dude, what the hell?!” He asked loudly, gesturing towards the bathroom that Reggie had disappeared into. “He obviously needs somebody to talk to right now! We need to be there for him!”

He was stopped, though, by Alex’s next words. “Yeah, do you remember the last time you barged in on him when he was upset, Luke?” Luke frowned, his look of slight anger turning more into one of confusion. “You mean the time he tried to shoot me with Carlos’ Nerf gun?”

Alex nodded, rolling his eyes. “I meant more the fact that you made him even more upset, but  _ yes _ , that time.” Luke frowned. “I don’t care if he rips my arm off, Reg is upset, I’m going in there and seeing what’s wrong!” Alex, in turn, looked like  _ he _ wanted to rip Luke’s arm off. “I- you- we don’t even know what he’s upset about, Luke. For all we know, he’s upset at one of us and the last thing he wants right now is to see us, and-”

Whatever Alex was going to say next was cut off by a loud shout of “GUYS!” Luke’s attention was grabbed away from his discussion with Alex, and diverted to a very exasperated, (wickedly beautiful) Julie Molina, who was flailing her arms and staring at the two of them.

“Finally. Okay, look. I know that you two have known him for longer than I have, and so you’re probably a better judge of what’s best for him - at least you would be, if you would stop arguing!” Julie gesticulated wildly as she talked, and Luke had to admit that she was right. The three of them stood there in silence for a moment, before Alex’s attention was grabbed, and he jerked his head towards the bathroom. “Wait, do you hear that?”

Luke gave him an incredulous look. “Hear what? None of us are talking.” Julie looked confused for a moment, before nodding. “Wait, yeah, I hear it too. Is that running water? I thought you said you guys didn’t shower anymore - super gross, by the way.”

“We don’t.” Alex said, looking just as confused as Luke felt. “At least, we don’t need to. Reggie did it a lot when we first became ghosts, but he’d stopped. At least, I thought he stopped.” The three of them exchanged a look, finishing the conversation without words, and they walked towards the bathroom door, Alex reaching it first and knocking.

“Reg’, buddy, can we come in?” Alex asked, his soft tone a far cry from the strong one he had been using to argue with Luke only moments before. There was no answer. The three of them exchanged another look, and then Julie was stepping forward, opening the door - and the three of them were met with an alarming sight.

The source of the water was the bath tap running, dangerously close to overflowing the tub. That wasn’t where Reggie was, though, and that wasn’t the concerning part. No, the concerning part was that Reggie was hunched over the toilet, sobbing as his face dangled above the bowl.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When they got home from the gig, the first thing Reggie did was walk into the garage, phasing through the walls and ignoring any words of protest as he headed for the bathroom. He didn’t bother taking his clothes off as he climbed into the tub, turning on the water and sitting down. What did it matter if his clothes got wet, anyways? They were made of air. That’s all he was, wasn’t it? Just air.

Logically, he knew that he didn’t really need to bathe. He didn’t need to eat, either, or sleep. But he felt dirty. He felt unclean. Did he smell? Was his subconscious brain trying to tell Reggie that he smelled? He raised a hand up to his nose, sniffing it and getting a noseful of… was that lilac? Why did he smell like lilacs?

Perfume, his brain reminded him, the image of that woman with her perfectly styled hair and make-up flashing through his head. She had been wearing perfume. The gorgeous lady - that was how she had described herself, he recalled - had been wearing perfume. And now he smelled like lilacs. He smelled like lilacs and he was… nauseous? How was he nauseous, the last time he had eaten had been at Caleb’s club, and that had been weeks ago.

Before he could even really process what he was doing, Reggie was climbing out of the tub, the running water forgotten, and now he was kneeling in front of the toilet, dry retching. He didn’t actually throw up - even if he still had a stomach, he hadn’t eaten anything to throw up - but his body was sending all the signals to his gut, telling it hey, you need to puke.

Puke… Reggie remembered a time when he had been copying Luke’s homework, that Luke had in turn copied from Alex, and there was a word that he had struggled to read. He could’ve sworn that the word was puke, due to Luke’s obnoxious handwriting, but retorted “No, you fart-knocker, that’s my name!”... and then, for two weeks straight, Reggie had referred to Luke solely as puke. What would Luke think, if Reggie were to tell him? Luke would probably laugh, say that Reggie was lucky that a gorgeous woman wanted to go after him. And Luke would be right…. Was what Reggie tried to tell himself. Despite his best efforts, though, he didn’t feel lucky. He didn’t feel lucky at all.

No, a better word to describe how Reggie felt at the moment would be raw. He felt raw, exposed, like an onion freshly peeled. Except instead of whoever was peeling the onion, he was doing the crying. Which he was, he noticed, as he felt a tear fall down his cheek. And then another and then another and then he was sobbing and dry retching into the toilet and what was wrong with him, he was  _ lucky _ . A beautiful woman had flirted with him, he should be feeling proud, happy, not… whatever this emotion was. He honestly couldn’t put a name on it. Raw had been a good way to start to describe it, but it didn’t fully encapsulate how he felt. All his brain was telling him was  _ bad wrong dirty dirty lilac touch kiss kiss flirt pretty dirty touch lips chapped bathroom newspapers help help no bad _ …. Which wasn’t really an emotion so much as a nonsensical string of words.

He was so trapped in his own head he didn’t even notice when his bandmates came rushing into the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, couple things - one, I'm sorry about how late this chapter came out. I wish I could say that I'm going to keep to a schedule, but I am notoriously bad at that, so I won't even try. Two, the characterization in this chapter is horrendous, I'm aware, but I'm still trying to get a handle on these characters. Three, the two parts of this chapter were originally switched, which is why the pacing is probably weird. Four, I'm incredibly thankful for the overwhelmingly positive feedback on the first chapter, but I'm much better at the hurt part of hurt/comfort, so the rest of this story will not live up to that bar. Five, please feel free to leave your (constructive) criticism.


	3. Red Lips and Metal Bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The band finds out what happened. Luke makes a big mistake.

Julie moved first, rushing over next to the toilet and kneeling down beside Reggie. She placed a gentle hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles. The motion was automatic, was almost involuntary, as she remembered her mom. When the chemo was taking its toll on her body but she was still living at home and Julie would do the same for her. The older woman protested, not wanting her teenage daughter to have to see the pain she was going through. But Julie cared too much, and she almost had a sixth sense for telling when her mom was feeling particularly bad, always rushing to comfort her.

Blinking and setting the thoughts aside, Julie focused on the task at hand. She could mull over her thoughts later, but right now her friend was in trouble. She had no idea what kind of trouble, but she could be there for him. Like, despite her parents’ protests, she had been there for her mom.

==

Luke followed after Julie - not because she was Julie and he would follow her anywhere, even though that was true - but because when he looked at Reggie, slumped over the toilet, all he could think of was that one night in 1995. Was this… some kind of leftover thing? That would suck ass, because not only would it hurt their ability to perform, it would hurt Reggie  _ period _ , which was something Luke would prevent, at any cost.

==

Alex went to follow, next, ignoring the fact that all four of them in there at once was a tight fit - he just wanted Reggie to be okay. But then he noticed that the water on the tap was still running, dangerously close to overflowing, so he walked over to the tub and turned off the water. He went to go over to Reggie, then, but despite Luke and Julie’s reassurances, the boy was shaking, repeating “No, no, no, no” over and over. While Alex wasn’t quite sure what was going on, the way Reggie was pushing against the lip of the toilet seat provided all of the information he needed - his friend needed space. He looked at Luke and Julie, nodding his head towards the door. Julie caught on, and dragged Luke (who didn’t catch on, and in fact looked like he never wanted to give Reggie space ever again) out of the room.

==

_ No. NOnononono. NONONONO!!! NO. nO. NO. nononono. _

_ Space. Space. Need- need space. Suffocating. _

Reggie pushed against the object in front of him, which was hard and unyielding.  _ Away, away, away. _ He needed to get away.  _ Away away away away out out out out out. Lips, red lips. Lips as red as blood as blood as blood as- _

His somewhat nonsensical thoughts were interrupted by a soothing male voice. Reggie didn’t know who it was, but it was comforting. He couldn’t tell what it was saying, either, but he latched onto it. Clung to it, coming back to reality, and suddenly he could make out what the voice was saying.

“Yes, good. That’s good Reg. Focus on me, okay?”

The voice was still talking, and slowly Reggie dragged himself away from phantom images of lips and dark, badly lit hallways and hands that roamed where no hands should go. The voice - Alex’s voice, he recognized his friend now, how could he have forgotten what Alex’s voice sounded like,  _ bad Reggie bad Reggie thought you were more mature thought -  _ gently spoke again, asking Reggie to name five things he could see.

And that caused Reggie to slowly realize that he had been trapped inside his own head, and he slowly looked around, spotting various objects. “Okay, uh. There’s the bathtub. Alex - I mean, there’s you, you’re here. The door. The sink. The counter.” As he named objects, they slowly started to become more and more clear in his mind, and the bad thoughts started to fade away. “Wait, this is the thing we use to get you out of panic attacks, isn’t it? Am I having a panic attack? Is that why I saw her?”

Alex’s voice, that had been a soothing constant murmur of reassurances, stopped suddenly. “What?” Alex asked, his voice panicky, which sent Reggie back into his mind.

_ Lips lips touching touching noononoononono DON’T WANT DON’T WANT _

“Don’t touch me! Get away!”

Reggie hadn’t even realized he had spoken the words out loud until Alex’s voice was back, reassuringly soft again. “Hey, hey, you’re safe, okay? You’re safe. Wherever you think you are, you aren’t there. You’re in the bathroom, in Julie’s garage, okay?” Reggie relaxed slightly, then. He was in the garage, in the studio. He was safe. He was safe. Safe.

Alex started counting, and Reggie breathed along. Four counts in, hold for seven, out for eight. Four counts in, hold for seven, out for eight. Four. Seven. Eight. 4 7 8 4 7 8 4 7 8 - he was in the bathroom! He had realized it before but now he could actually see that he was there, wasn’t simply visualizing it. And he could see Alex, standing in front of him, reaching a hand out, which Reggie took.

The hand wasn’t soft, like the woman’s had been. It was rough and calloused, from years of drumming while Alex was alive, and that fact was what Reggie clung to. This was different. This was safe. This was Alex. Alex slowly led him out of the bathroom, and over to the couch. Luke’s couch! It was Luke’s couch. Luke. Reggie wanted to see Luke, and he looked around the room wildly, relaxing when he saw that Luke was standing right there. Good, she hadn’t gotten to him. She hadn’t touched him. 

==

Alex was doing his best to appear calm. He didn’t want to spook Reggie, like he had done earlier and had sent his friend spiraling - but in his head, a million thoughts were running through his mind.  _ Her. Don’t touch me. Get away. _ Who could Reggie possibly be talking about? If his friend had said ‘him’, Alex knew immediately who he would be talking about. Alex still had nightmares about the Hollywood Ghost Club, after all. He had figured that the other two would’ve, as well.

But the problem was, that wasn’t the pronoun Reggie had used. He had said ‘she’.Which meant there was a woman who had hurt his bandmate. What had this ‘she’ done? Alex had never seen Reggie this freaked out, this out of it - he had seen Reggie after a particularly bad fight between the boy’s parents, and even then he hadn’t acted like this. This was new, this was different, and Alex had no clue what was going on. Had no clue what had happened to Reggie, and countless scenarios were running through the blonde’s head of what could have possibly happened, none of them good. 

Still, though, he gently brought Reggie back, using soft, calming words despite the hurricane of worries running through his head. It took a while, probably around twenty minutes, and he was extremely thankful for Julie keeping Luke contained. He loved the guy, he really did, but sometimes Luke was just…. Too much. 

Eventually, Reggie was fully aware and conscious, and Alex spoke softly, asking if he’d be okay with Luke and Julie coming over. Reggie nodded, and Alex motioned for them to come over.

“Okay. Reggie, how can we help you? Do you want to talk about what happened, or do you want a distraction?”

Alex, a little selfishly, was relieved when Reggie responded “Talk.”

And so, Reggie started to talk.

“I, uh, so, you guys remember when I was flirting with that girl, right?”

Alex nodded, as did Luke and Julie.

“Well, uh, she was asking me about bass playing - she thinks I’m a good bass player! That cute girl thought I was a good bass player! And she plays the bass too. I like playing the bass. You know, it has all those powerful low notes that really shake your body, like a wacky inflatable arm man. You know, those things at the places where they sell cars? And I like the big thumping noise and-”

It was Luke’s turn to talk next. “Dude, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, okay?”

Reggie shook his head. “No, no, I- I want to talk. So, uh, her mom came over. Very nice lady, very…. Very beau-” Reggie paused, shaking, which concerned Alex immensely. “Very beautif- she was attractive.”

Julie shot Alex a look, and Alex was immensely confused. Julie looked like she had figured something out, already, which was confusing, because Reggie hadn’t  **said** anything yet.

“She uh- she led me over to the bathroom, and then- then she started flirting and then she touched me and then she tried to kiss me.” The last part was said almost impossibly fast, and none of them caught it.

“Hey, Reggie.” Julie said softly. “You don’t have to repeat yourself if you don’t want to, but I don’t think any of us understood what you tried to say.”

Reggie nodded, breath and hands shaking and not like him, not like Reggie at all.

Reggie’s eyes were locked with Julie’s as he said the next few words. “Flirt. Touch. Kiss. Don’t want, don’t want, don’t want, don’t want!” As he said the last part, Reggie wrapped his arms around himself, shaking back and forth, and Julie gently put a comforting hand on his knee. “Hey, Reg, it’s okay. She’s not here, she can’t hurt you, alright?”

Alex exchanged a look with Luke, incredibly confused. What Reggie had said was a nonsensical string of words, and yet Julie seemed to understand exactly what he had meant. He looked back at Reggie as the other boy nodded. “Can you… can you explain it to them?” Reggie said, his voice back to being soft, much, much softer than before. Julie looked concerned, hesitant. “Are you sure?” Reggie nodded.

Julie swallowed, nodding, and pulled Luke and Alex over to a corner, away from Reggie.

“Okay, so, I’m not entirely sure what  _ exactly _ happened. So don’t do anything stupid.”

Alex scoffed. “Luke? Do something stupid? Never.”

Luke elbowed him, then, and Alex rolled his eyes - but every single action was a poor, hesitant one. They were scared for Reggie.

And then Julie looked directly at Alex. “I’m not just talking to him.”

Alex swallowed, nodding, as Luke muttered out a soft “Ha!” - again, forced, fake, both of them trying to act like everything was normal when it was clear nothing was. Nothing at all.

Julie was silent for a long, uncomfortable moment, before speaking again. “That being said, I’m pretty sure what happened was that that woman creeped on Reggie. I’m not sure how, but from what he said I’m assuming….. I’m assuming kissing was involved. Kissing he didn’t want, between him and that woman.”

A small whoosh sounded beside him, and Alex looked over at where Luke had been only a moment ago - only to see him having disappeared.

So much for  **Don’t do anything stupid.**

==

Anger. That was all he could feel. Anger at whoever the hell this woman was, anger at the fact that anyone would dare hurt his sweet, soft friend, who was, as Julie said “a complete and total cinnamon roll.” But Luke wasn’t exactly sure what he could do about it - on the other hand, he knew who could. Ray.

So, Luke whooshed into the foyer, ready to go find where Ray was and tell him about what had happened, convince the man to  _ do something _ . Because something had to be done! This… this disgusting shit that Reggie had gone through, it had to be illegal! There was no way it was legal. And Ray was an adult, one who listened to Luke and heard him out (unlike his own parents). 

When he whooshed into the house, though, the first thing he heard was loud Spanish being thrown back and forth. It sounded like Aunt Vicky and Ray were arguing about something. Months ago, Luke would’ve been completely lost, unable to understand a word of what the argument was about. But he had been trying to teach himself Spanish, planning on impressing Julie by writing her a love song completely in the language and surprising her with it. That… wasn’t going too well, the whole learning thing, but he did know a couple of basic words and phrases.

And, from what he could hear and understand, the two adults were talking about Reggie. Something about a woman - okay, so they knew - and being unable to do something. Aunt Vicky seemed to be saying that they needed to get the cops involved, and Ray seemed to be saying something about having to keep the boys a secret. It sounded like they both agreed that what the woman had done was wrong, but Ray was saying about doing something… youthfully? Wait, no, by themselves! By themselves, that’s what he was saying.

Luke didn’t have time for this. By the time the two adults had decided on something, it would be too late, the woman could be miles away. And he wasn’t going to let that happen. She had hurt Reggie, and he wouldn’t stand for that. He  _ couldn’t _ stand for that. But there was…. A sure way to make sure that she got what she deserved. It was risky, and it would probably end badly, but Luke wasn’t thinking about the consequences. He was too busy thinking about protecting Reggie.

So he closed his eyes, imagining the place that he had sworn he would never go back to, and appeared there. He glanced over the large room, trying to find the person he was looking for. A voice in his head was screaming to run, to get out of there, that this was a bad idea. But Luke was used to ignoring that voice. And so that was what he did, ignored the voice, as he spotted the individual he was looking for and walked over to them.

“I want to make a deal.”

The man whipped around, a cheshire-cat smile coming over the fancily clad man’s face as he saw who had spoken.

“Lukas! This is… a nice surprise. I’d think this was a trick, but something tells me that you’re not the type for that.” Caleb snapped his fingers, a pair of bronzed handcuffs appearing. They were engraved with the Hollywood Ghost Club’s logo and had a strange, purple aura.

“What the hell-?” Luke asked, backing up as a shiver went down his spine. He was only just now realizing how much he had screwed up.

“Can’t have you running away, after all. I don’t know how you escaped last time, but hopefully these will prevent that. I had them specially made for you. You should feel honored!”

Luke turned around, trying to run out of the club. He needed to get out, needed to get back to Julie, there had to be another way to get back at the woman, this clearly was not the solution-

“Dante! Fuego!”

Two large men grabbed a hold of Luke right before he reached the door, pulling him back to Caleb as he kicked and cursed, snapping at the two men and trying to bite them - but they were stronger, and bigger, and pretty soon he was back within Caleb’s reach, and cold metal was being fastened on his wrists behind his back.

Oh god.

What had he done?


	4. A Picture, Framed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke makes a deal with the devil. Julie laments. The devil is in the details.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are from the song "Fuck You" by Lily Allen

The metal felt tight around Luke’s wrists. It was cold, sharp, and heavy. The two men, Dante and Fuego, each held one of his shoulders, preventing him from moving. And Caleb was looking at him with a look of glee on his face that made Luke angry. Caleb thought he had won, huh? He hadn’t won. Not as long as Luke had a say. “Get off me!” He yelled, shoulders moving back and forth wildly - to no avail.

And then Caleb was strolling forward, grabbing a hold of Luke’s chin and moving his face back and forth, like he was examining a potential instrument for defects before buying. “What the hell, you tacky, old-fashioned, unoriginal bastard!” He growled, still trying to pull against the two men. Caleb just tightened his grip on Luke’s chin.

Caleb rolled his eyes, looking into Luke’s with a smirk. “I’ve been around for over a century, sweetheart. You don’t phase me.” Luke flinched at Caleb’s choice of words, what had happened to Reggie still fresh on his mind. Caleb was a bastard, but he wouldn’t go that far…. Right? God, Luke hoped he wouldn’t.

Even though Luke was terrified, though, he did his best to hide it under a layer of bravado. “Hey, cool it. I’m here to make a deal, these restraints are unnecessary, man.” Caleb made a noise of amusement, shaking his head. “They’re necessary, trust me. What’s the deal?”

Luke swallowed, once again pushing his fear aside. He was already here. If he was going to be trapped in this club with Caleb, the least he could do was make sure he actually accomplished what he had come there for. “A woman hurt Reggie. I need to make sure she can’t get to him again.” Caleb chuckled, grinning. “I know exactly who you’re talking about. Deal.” He said, hand still on Luke’s face - and where his fingers touched Luke’s ghostly skin, he felt a painful burning sensation, causing him to cry out in pain.

And then darkness encroached in his vision, so fast that Luke barely registered it before unconsciousness, something that he hadn’t experienced in twenty-five years, overtook him.

==

When Luke awoke again, he sprung to his feet, not knowing where he was or what was happening. It was only when he felt a heavy weight around his ankle that Luke remembered that he was at the Hollywood Ghost Club. He had made a deal with Caleb, a deal that would prevent Reggie from getting hurt. Whatever happened to him now, it was worth it. He had won. He had protected his friend, even if it was slightly too late - something that he was still mad about, but no _further_ harm would come to Reggie. The guy deserved to be happy.

Luke glanced down at his ankle, feeling cold metal around it, to see that the cuffs had been moved to his ankle - or, rather, one cuff was around his ankle. The other was connected to a wrought iron chain, glowing with that same purple aura. He traced the chain with his eyes, noticing that it trailed across the carpeted floor before climbing up a wood-paneled wall, attached to a metal fixture sitting on the wall. His eyes traced across the room, noticing that it appeared to be pretty much empty, save for a table and chair in the middle of the room, and a mirror on the wall. On the table, there was a pen and….. Paper? Stacks upon stacks of paper. Okay, Luke knew that Caleb was a weird guy, but this was insane. Looking in the mirror, he saw that where Caleb had grabbed his face, there were two twin club stamps, one on each cheek. That freaked Luke out, as he remembered the stamps that had caused him so much pain, months earlier.

He also noticed that Caleb had taken Luke’s clothes and replaced them. _Again_. He was, instead, wearing a tight-fitting mustard yellow suit. The suit covered almost every inch of Luke’s body below his neck, except for his hands and feet. It also had the Hollywood Ghost Club logo embroidered on each and every pocket. Oh, great, and Caleb had even had the audacity to take his shoes, which had been replaced with matching mustard yellow dress shoes. What was with the yellow?

Okay, Luke had a lot of emotions running through his head right now. Anger, relief, frustration, fear… he needed to get it out. And when he needed to get his emotions out, he usually wrote. The fact that there was paper in the room was fantastic, but the fact of the matter was that without his guitar, writing didn’t really happen. And then, like it had at the beach, his guitar appeared around, the familiar weight of the neck strap around his neck a welcome relief.

“Awesome.” He muttered to himself, chuckling, before he looked down at the guitar and realized, with horror, that Caleb had butchered his baby. The wonderful blue color had been replaced by a dark purple reminiscent of Caleb’s signature look, and _yet another goddamn logo_ was stamped onto the body. Wait, how the hell? His guitar was attached to his soul, how had Caleb managed to change what it looked like?

Whatever. He had his guitar, even if his baby had been disfigured and marred beyond recognition. It was still _his_. And he was still going to write. He sat down at the desk, picking up a pen and dragging over a sheet of paper, taking a deep breath and trying to imagine that he was back in the studio instead of some weird room in Caleb’s club.

Luke started to write - or at least, he tried. The second he put a pen to paper, he felt an absence. He wasn’t sure what the absence was, but he just… felt like this wasn’t right. And that’s when he realized. Julie. For months, whenever he had written anything, it had been with Julie. This was the first time he was writing alone in ages, and his heart ached. He started to strum a few chords, experimenting, and he found his mind thinking about her. She was a powerhouse, a rockstar, and he hadn’t been trying to impress her when he told her that she made him better. She did. But he played chords, writing them down, and tried to ignore the fact that without Julie’s presence beside him, there was a chill in the air.

After a couple of minutes, he threw down the pen in anger, frustrated. Nothing was coming into his brain about how much he hated Caleb, how heavy the chain around his ankle felt, how he felt like the Hollywood Ghost Club in and of itself was- of course. Luke smirked, now knowing what direction he was going to go in. He was going to write a song talking about how much of a gigantic dickwad Caleb was.

==

Julie was overwhelmed. After Luke had disappeared to who-knew-where, Reggie had panicked. He was convinced that Luke was getting hurt, and the worst part was that she couldn’t comfort him because she didn’t know where he _was_. And that had just been the first hour. It had been days. It had been days, with no word. The three of them knew that he wouldn’t just run like this, wouldn’t just disappear for no reason. Something had happened. And that, combined with Alex’s anxiety and Reggie’s new fragile mental state, sent the two boys into a whirlwind of anxiety. Julie was anxious too, sure, but she had been strong for them when they were around - and, considering the fact that they refused to leave her alone now, that was practically 24/7.

A couple of months ago, Ray had enrolled Alex, Luke, and Reggie at Los Feliz, despite their protests. Now, though, you’d never know it, because none of them (Julie included) had been to school since Luke disappeared. Since the day that Reggie had gotten assaulted. Flynn had been there for Julie, and she loved her best friend for that, but whatever was going on - it was way above both of their heads. There was no denying that. They were two high-schoolers, and dealing with Julie’s ghost band had been hard enough to wrap both of their heads around. This was… too much.

So, Julie had skipped a couple days of school. Tía hadn’t exactly been happy about her dad’s decision to let her do that (or to let the boys do that), but luckily he understood that when one of them was traumatized and another one of them was missing, none of the band could really bring themselves to care about algebra or the constitution.

Julie was currently laying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Alex had gone to the cafe, again - he kept going back there, as if he thought that Luke would just appear there magically one day. She wished she could bring herself to believe that, too. Reggie was downstairs, her dad still trying to talk him into going to see a therapist, and she was blasting music. It was nothing of her own - that just reminded her of Luke - but instead, some K-pop band she had never heard of. She didn’t understand a word of the lyrics, but that was good - it meant her brain didn’t latch onto them, didn’t try to think about the poetry that was making music, because that path kept leading to thinking about Luke.

She sat up suddenly when Alex, without any warning whatsoever, appeared at the foot of her bed.

“Boy!” She yelled, more out of surprise than anger. “I know I said you can come in here now, but a little _warning_ would’ve been nice!”

Any anger that had been there, though, disappeared when she saw the look on the boy’s face. She stood up suddenly, ignoring the rush of blood to her head, and ran over to him, wrapping him in her arms. “Hey. Hey, you’re okay. What’s wrong?”

Alex’s breathing was fast, harried and unsteady. He was having a panic attack. She separated from him, ready to begin the (sadly) familiar process of calming him down, before he spoke suddenly.

“She’s dead.”

The words left her mouth before she could think about how they would probably make him feel worse.

“Who, Alex?” 

“The woman who hurt Reggie.”

==

Luke hummed the melody to himself, satisfied with what he had done so far. He honestly didn’t know how long he had been writing for - but luckily, as a ghost, he had no bodily functions to take care of. He was jotting down the last few words when Caleb strolled into the room, and so Luke sprung out of his seat, a smirk on his face, as he started to sing.

_Look inside, look inside your tiny mind, now look a bit harder_

_'Cause we're so uninspired_

_So sick and tired of all the hatred you harbour_

_So you say it's not okay to be free, well, I think you're just evil_

_You're just some racist who can't tie my laces_

_Your point of view is medieval_

Caleb, now with a pissed look on his face, started to walk towards Luke, who jumped out of reach as he continued to sing.

_Fuck you (Fuck you), fuck you very, very much_

_'Cause we hate what you do_

_And we hate your whole crew_

_So, please don't stay in touch_

_Fuck you (Fuck you), fuck you very, very much_

_'Cause your words don't translate_

_And it's getting quite late_

_So, please don't stay in touch_

Caleb was getting angrier and angrier by the second - but honestly, Luke didn’t care. Caleb hadn’t actually gotten him to agree to, well, _anything_ , and as far as Luke was concerned that meant he could do whatever he wanted.

_Do you get, do you get a little kick out of being small-minded?_

_You want to be like your father, it's approval you're after_

_Well, that's not how you find it_

_Do you, do you really enjoy living a life that's so hateful?_

_'Cause there's a hole where your soul should be_

_You're losing control a bit, and it's really distasteful_

_Fuck you (Fuck you), fuck you very, very much_

_'Cause we hate what you do_

_And we hate your whole crew_

_So, please don't stay in touch_

Caleb snapped his fingers, and the stamps on his cheeks started to burn. Still, he smiled. Caleb had given up trying to chase after Luke, and was now just standing there, glaring at him.

_Fuck you (Fuck you), fuck you very, very much_

_'Cause your words don't translate_

_And it's getting quite late_

_So, please don't stay in touch_

_Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you_

_Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you_

_Fuck you_

_You say, you think we need to go to war, well, you're already in one_

_'Cause it's people like you that need to get slew_

_No one wants your opinion_

_Fuck you (Fuck you), fuck you very, very much_

_'Cause we hate what you do_

_And we hate your whole crew_

_So, please don't stay in touch_

_Fuck you (Fuck you), fuck you very, very much_

_'Cause your words don't translate_

_And it's getting quite late_

_So, please don't stay in touch_

_Fuck you, fuck you_

_Fuck you, fuck you_

_Fuck you, fuck you_

_Fuck you, fuck you_

_Fuck you, fuck you_

_Fuck you, fuck you_

Luke managed to finish the song without any more interruptions, a gigantic smirk on his face, before he set his guitar down gently on the table. Caleb, fuming, snapped his fingers, and a large poster, a printed-out photograph, appeared on the wall. It was grainy from being blown up so big, but the red color all over the photo - the bright, bright red was immediately recognizable - and Luke figured out what the face was after a minute of study. It was the woman who had hurt Reggie. But her face was pale, so pale, and so _wrong_. And there was so much blood…

Luke stared at the giant, blown-up image in horror for what felt like hours before speaking again. “I- wha-”

Caleb chuckled. “I was going to wait to tell you what happened until you angered me, but the very first thing you did was anger me. You asked me to make sure she couldn’t hurt Reggie again, to get revenge - and I gave you what you wanted.”

Oh god.

Oh god, this woman was _dead_ , she had been _murdered_ , and it was his fault. It was his fault. Sure, she had attacked Reggie, but nobody deserved what he was looking at. No one.

“I wonder what her daughter will think… losing her mom at seventeen… sounds a bit familiar, no?”

Oh god, she had a daughter. She had a daughter, a daughter who was never going to speak to her mom ever again. A daughter who very likely could’ve had an argument with her mother, could’ve left off on bad terms, could’ve-

“I made sure she won’t become a ghost, either, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Luke felt himself go numb, his body go heavy. He was, vaguely, aware of how Caleb unfastened the chain from the wall, yanking on it to pull Luke out the door. But it didn’t matter that he could no longer see the photo. Not when that image was going to be, always and forever, embedded in his head.

He was functioning on automatic, not really paying attention to anything or thinking about anything, just… existing. It felt like he was watching through a movie screen as he saw Caleb hand the chain off to someone else, who fastened the other end of the chain to a table in the main room of the club. It felt like he was listening to the radio as Caleb put on a show, and he could’ve sworn that Caleb had said his name at some point.

Sitting there, for hours, Luke felt hollow. Felt empty. Felt like something was missing, and he remembered what he had told Caleb - that he wanted revenge. That he wanted revenge, and he wanted to make sure that Reggie never got hurt by her again. Well, Caleb had given him what he had asked for. He didn’t notice as, one by one, people trickled out of the club, leaving him sitting there, alone in the giant room.

There was one thing, one thing that Luke could do that could _maybe, just maybe_ make him feel a _little_ better. Luke closed his eyes, trying to imagine his guitar popping into his arms - 

Nothing.

He thought again, harder this time.

Nothing.

“Come on, guitar, I want my guitar, my guitar, I just want my guitar.”

_Nothing._

Luke let loose a blood-curdling scream, turning his head towards the ceiling and yelling as loud as he possibly could.

**Nothing.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I wrote two chapters in two days after not writing anything for a week. I don't know either.


	5. A Voice in the Dark

When Caleb had first told Willie he wasn’t allowed to leave the club anymore, it had hit him like a ton of bricks. No more skating, no more Alex - no more of either of the two things that brought him so much joy. But then, when he had been lamenting to Sasha, the saxophone player in Caleb’s band, she had gotten an idea - and, honestly, an  _ amazing _ idea at that. Sasha was a (moderately) old ghost - she had died in 1865. She often had an eccentric, old-fashioned way of looking at things, but right that instant that was exactly what Willie had needed.   
  
“So, what you’re saying, my dear, is that you cannot see your lover because you are confined to the club?” She asked, flipping through a vintage magazine. Willie nodded. “I mean, yeah. He’s not my ‘lover’ -” Sasha snorted, an odd look compared to her polished, pristine demeanor - “But yeah. And you already know how Caleb doesn’t like phones in the club, apparently it ruins his ‘aesthetic’.” Sasha nodded. “Yes, I’m aware that he doesn’t allow your new-fangled technology in the club, but how would that keep you from communicating with him?”

Willie shot her a look. “Ah, yes, I’m sure you have all the knowledge about how to talk over long distances, Benjamin Franklin.” She glared at him, then, but it was out of love - despite how different the two were, they were the only ones in the club who actually took the time to try and interact with the other employees. Everyone else just kind of… existed… floating through time and space like the ghosts they were. “Yes, actually, I am. Honestly, William, they weren’t even entirely out of vogue when you died, how on earth have you forgotten about letters?”

Willie frowned. She had a point, but at the same time, she honestly didn’t. “Yeah, that would work wonderfully, except for the fact that the club doesn’t have a mailbox.” She rolled her eyes, throwing her magazine at him - he made himself incorporeal just in time to avoid getting hit in the chest, and it passed right through him. “Willie!” She yelled, using his nickname. She had used to call him William, insisting that  _ that’s your name, you might as well go by it _ , but when she had seen how Caleb used the name to intimidate him, she had stopped. Honestly, if it weren’t for her, he didn’t know how he would’ve gotten through the past 30 some-odd years. “You don’t need a mailbox when you have me.”

And that was that - Willie wrote letters by hand, and then he’d hand them off to Sasha, who’d return with printed out pages of love that Alex had typed out. It was an odd sort of arrangement, but it worked, and over the months Willie had fallen in love with the way Alex wrote, the complex vocabulary nothing like the way the boy talked. That was what led him here, sitting down in a lounging area, when Sasha walked in, tossing him a sealed envelope. “The morning paper is here!” She announced, and Willie rolled his eyes. That was what she had started calling Alex’s letters, and Willie found it hilarious - not that he’d ever tell her that, she’d get all self-confident and that would be a nightmare.

Sasha stayed in the room as he opened the letter and read it, because she was the type to stick her nose in places where it didn’t belong. It had gotten her killed over a hundred years ago, but she still hadn’t shook the habit, and Willie wasn’t going to fault her for it. “Alright, let’s see - bunch of wonderful poetry that you are  **not** going to hear, don’t start - he’s started writing a solo for himself, hell yeah - wait.” Willie stopped his reading, sitting up from his position lounged on the couch.

Sasha looked at him expectantly. “Well, out with it! What, has he finally said he loved you?” Willie glared at her.   
  
“We aren’t even dating!”

“You don’t seriously expect me to believe that, do you? You’ve been courting for months, I told Clara I loved her a month into our courtship.”

“Me and Alex are not you and Clara, stop comparing us!”

“What. Is. The. News.”

“Luke’s missing.”

Sasha’s eyes widened, and she winced. “Luke… he is the guitarist, correct? The one with shoulder-length brown hair?” Willie nodded. Sasha ran over to the door, closing it before walking over to him, speaking in hushed tones. “Caleb recently recruited a boy who I am convinced looks exactly like your Lucas.” Willie blinked several times, processing what his friend had just said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sasha’s eyes darted towards the door again. “Caleb… he said that Lucas’ presence is not to be talked about - “ Willie’s eyes darted towards her. “Does he look like Luke, or  _ is _ he Luke?” Sasha bit her lip, muttering out “I’ve said too much,” and then, much to Willie’s surprise, darted out of the room.

Willie stood up, tucking the letter into his pocket, and walked out of the room - only to find that Sasha had disappeared. Well, that was odd. Sasha was eccentric, sure, but she never acted like that, even when threatened by Caleb. She was the last person who would ever keep a secret from him. Something was seriously wrong, and Willie had a rising suspicion about what it was.

That was when Willie heard a sound, a horrible, terrible sound - a scream, one of utter pain and sorrow. He raced towards the noise, emerging onto the main dance floor - which was empty, it was  _ never _ empty - to see  _ Luke _ sitting there, having been the one to make the sound. Willie quickly ran over to him.   
  
“Luke!” He shouted as he ran. “Luke, it’s Willie, what’s going on-”

And then Luke turned to look at Willie, and the boy had not one, but two stamps. Not only that, but they were on his face, two on each side of his chin. The sight was horrific, it was like Caleb had placed a sign around Luke’s neck that said ‘Property of Caleb Covington.’ Luke didn’t say anything, he just had this blank look on his face. Like his mind had left his spectral body, leaving behind a shell of a person. “Luke?” He asked, softer. “Luke, talk to me.” Willie looked Luke up and down, trying to check for any further damage - and oh god. Oh god, there was a chain connected to Luke’s ankle. Caleb had never done anything like that before. If he had, Willie probably would’ve woken up to the reality of how messed up Caleb was much sooner.

Luke blinked, incredibly slowly, and slowly lifted his head to look at Willie. He still didn’t say anything, just stared at him. Oh god, what on earth had Caleb done? This was not the boy that he had met fairly briefly, this was not the passionate, driven, goofy boy that Alex had described to him. This was Luke, but at the same time…. It really wasn’t. “Luke, please, say something.”

Finally,  _ finally _ , Luke spoke. “I killed her.” He said, voice devoid of emotion. “She was a real, living, breathing person, and now she’s dead.” Willie stared at Luke for a moment, incredibly confused. “Luke, I don’t know what you’re talking about. You gotta… I’m sure this is hard, but I’m going to need you to tell me everything. Why are you here? Who are you talking about?”

And then Luke talked. He talked about what had happened, from saying that Reggie had gotten ‘attacked’ - he refused to go into any more detail than that - and that Luke had come here, to get revenge on the person who had hurt Reggie. He talked about how Caleb had put him in first handcuffs, then the restraint around his ankle. He talked about how he had been shown a picture, of an incredibly bloody dead body - the woman.

Willie listened, passing no judgement on Luke. Okay, yeah, he passed a little bit of judgement, but none aloud. The poor guy was shaken up enough already. “Luke… I’m so sorry that happened to you. None of that was okay.”

Luke looked confused then, locking eyes with Willie. “What are you talking about? I’m not - I’m not the victim, here.” Okay, that ticked Willie off. He had spent the last couple of months self-reflecting, uncurling every piece of his mind that Caleb had dug his filthy hands into, tainted Willie and made him into exactly who Caleb wanted him to be. And now it looked like he had started molding Luke in the same way he had Willie.   
  
“No. Luke, listen to me. You didn’t - someone hurt Reggie, and so you made a rash decision. I may not know you that well, but if I know Alex, he wouldn’t be friends with a murderer. You aren’t one. Caleb is.” Luke just continued to stare blankly at him, shaking his head. “No. I killed her. I’m a killer. It’s a good thing I’m chained up. This way I can’t hurt anyone else”

Okay, first things first - there was no way in hell that being attached to a literal chain was helping Luke’s mental state, so Willie needed to get him out of that. He dropped to the floor, crawling under the table and looking at the chain that Luke was attached to. That’s when he noticed it, something incredibly strange - there was no lock. The chain was simply clipped onto the cuff around Luke’s foot, in a way that looked like it would be fairly easy to release Luke from. Willie reached forward, going to do just that - only to feel some of the worst pain he had ever experienced.

It felt like fire. Like a blazing inferno, like he had poofed into the center of a volcano and was staying there, melting, melting into nothing but ash and smoke. He jumped back, shaking, horrified. Okay, so that was not an option. Willie’s eyes widened when Luke kicked at the chain, causing it to contact his skin - but Luke looked fine. He didn’t look like he had experienced the same pain Willie had just gone through. Wait… that gave Willie an idea.

“Luke.” He said, getting the boy’s attention. “Luke, look at the chain.” Luke’s eyes darted to it, and then he looked back at Willie. “Am I supposed to be seeing something?” He asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. Willie looked up at Luke, still sitting on the ground. “Yeah. Why haven’t you undone the clip?” Luke looked at Willie, like he had just said something absolutely outrageous. “I don’t exactly have a key to the  _ lock _ , dude.” Willie frowned, glancing at the clip - carabiner was the technical term for it, if he was remembering correctly - “What?” Luke stared at Willie, his resigned expression turning into one of more confusion. “There’s a lock. You know, like one of those things they used for dungeons in castles? Caleb a King Arthur fan or something?”

That’s when it clicked, in Willie’s head. He had heard stories, rumors, around the club - rumors that one of Caleb’s abilities was being able to get inside people’s heads and change things around. And not in the manipulative way, either, in the literal way. Willie had scoffed it off as being insane at the time, but… there was no other explanation for why Luke was looking at the exact same thing he was and seeing something completely different. He tried to remember what else the rumors had said - after all, it looked like they weren’t rumors after all.

“Luke.” He said, carefully. “I think Caleb’s messed with your head. As in, magically messed with it.” Luke shrugged, seemingly uncaring.  _ Great _ .   
  
“I might be able to undo it, but it’ll be dangerous.”    
  
Another shrug.    
  
“Luke…”

Glassy eyes stared back at Willie.

“Luke, this is important. I need you to listen to me, okay? I might be able to fix this, whatever  _ this _ is, but it is incredibly risky. If I mess up, I could end up leaving you in a coma. Well, a ghost coma.”   
  
Luke shrugged once more, and Willie glared daggers at the friend of his love.   
  
“Just do it.” Luke said, his voice faraway and distant.

“Do what?” Asked a voice from afar. A voice that Willie recognized all too well. A voice that had ruined his afterlife.   
  
Caleb.

  
**\--------------------------------------------------------**

The internet was a magnificent creature, Reggie had discovered. It had the ability to show him countless pictures of adorable cats, but it also apparently contained all of human knowledge. He had also spent many an hour ‘browsing’ the ‘web’, researching all of the music he had missed - and boy, there was a lot. He had recently started watching music videos, fascinated by the fact that people no longer had to watch TV to see them. He had started out on a ‘site’ called ‘Vimeo’, but had since moved over to one called ‘Youtube’. 

To be quite honest, he wasn’t sure how he ended up keeping all of these terms straight in his head. Well, sometimes he messed up, like when he had asked Julie what her favorite “Yousnoozer’ was, and she had burst out into laughter. He knew she didn’t mean any harm by it, but… the fact that she had laughed at him had sent him into a bit of a spiral, remembering how when he was younger he was constantly called ‘the weird kid’ and relentlessly made fun of. But then he’d met Bobby, and then Luke, and then Alex, and they were the weird kids together. He still like getting laughed at though, even after all these years, and he wasn’t going to lie - that had  _ stung _ .

Right now, though, nobody was making fun of him. Right now, Reggie was browsing the youtubes, trying to distract himself from the situation at hand. He clicked through a couple of country videos, then some rock ones, and then something popped up in the ‘recommended’ bar that made him perk up - a recording of the Edge of Great performance. He smiled, nostalgia flowing through him as he watched the video, remembering how he had been so confused about why Julie was ignoring Luke, how he had shared a moment with her and Alex… from the performer’s side of the story, it had been amazing. He couldn’t wait to share a moment like that with his friends again… he couldn’t wait til he saw Luke again…   
  
Reggie shook his head rapidly, trying to bring himself back to reality. He needed… he needed a distraction. He remembered how, back in the ‘90s, he had always loved seeing how groupies reacted to them, and Reggie figured that the comments probably had similar, completely innocuous comments.

The first one he spotted, as he scrolled through, was about Julie.  _ The lead singer has the voice of an angel, honestly. God, her fashion is on point, too! The standing on the piano part is weird, but yknow what? Do you, girl. _ He smiled as he read it, thinking about how, yeah, Julie was a badass. She completed the band, not in the same way that Bobby had but an incredible way all the same.

There were a couple more comments that he didn’t pay that much attention to - someone was very confused by the ‘holograms’, commenting that it was impossible, and it looked like others had started arguing about it. He swallowed, trying not to think about how much he hated arguments, and moved on. There was another comment about how _ That guitarist is a TOTAL SIMP! _ , and Reggie was left wondering what the heck a ‘simp’ was. He kept scrolling.

_ Like if you’re reading this in 2025 _ , it said, and Reggie had to stop himself from physically jumping up. So, not only were ghosts real, but so was time travel? Wicked awesome. He couldn’t wait to tell Alex and Luke about that. He hoped Luke came back soon…   
  
More scrolling, and Reggie was amused by a comment that said  _ Damn, that drummer’s hot.  _ He’d love to tease Alex about that, later… he opened the comment thread, scrolling through the various other comments about the physical appearances about the band, wincing at one that said that it thought Reggie was ‘beautiful’. He couldn’t lie, the compliment about his physical appearance reminded him of the woman… he moved on, noticing the various compliments about Luke’s arms - there were a lot of them - until he saw something that made him frown.

_ Does anyone know how old the band members are? I really hope they’re over eighteen… _   
  
Okay, well, that was a weird thing to say in that thread. Why would someone care about whether they could vote, and why would they ask that question in a thread about the band being attractive? Which, he couldn’t lie, the thought of which freaked him out. But out of a morbid sense of curiosity, he kept reading. And the next comment, in reply to that one, confused him even more.   
  
_ I know the girl - she goes to my school, she’s fifteen. No clue who the guys are, but she doesn’t strike me as the type of girl to be in a band with adults. EDIT: stop being gross. _ _   
_ _   
_ The first part made sense to him, but the second part? Yeah, he had no clue what that meant. He looked at a reply to that comment.   
  
_ Ngl if they are underage those boys are total jailbait. _   
  
He stopped reading, then, flinging himself back out of Carlos’ chair and away from the computer. His breathing quickened, and he felt like he was sinking - sinking into quicksand, being swallowed up by memories of lips and hands and perfume and makeup…….. Of feelings of wrongness, of disgust, of confusion. He had thought, had  _ hoped _ , that that woman was alone in how she felt, in what she did…. But at least one other person agreed with her…   
  
He took a step back towards the computer, glancing at the number of likes that comment had received - there were over a hundred. Over a hundred people agreed that he was ‘jailbait’. Over a hundred people wanted to put their hands on him. Over a hundred people wanted to put their hands on  _ Alex and Luke _ . Oh no, was that where Luke had disappeared to? Had somebody gotten to him, taken him? Were they keeping him in a basement, kissing him while Luke fought back and inevitably got himself hurt? No, no, no, Luke didn’t  _ deserve _ that. Luke was a sweetheart, Luke was incredible, Luke was so strong and so amazing and so incredible and  _ somebody had him in their basement, someone had him in their basement and were doing things to him, making him feel like Reggie had felt and worse, so much worse, so. Much. worse. _ _   
_ _   
_ He was brought back to reality, slightly, by a hand on his shoulder. It was coarse, rough. Weathered and calloused. It was big, too, and comforting, and he just focused on the hand, focused on how it felt on his shoulder. It was gentle, and calming, and he slowly came out of his head, hearing a voice talking softly.   
  
“Mijo. Hey. You’re safe. I’m here.”   
  
Reggie blinked a few times, trying to figure out who the voice was - and then it clicked. It was Ray. Ray was here. Ray would protect him. Reggie was safe, Alex was safe - but Luke wasn’t! Luke still wasn’t safe! His breathing picked up its pace again, and his thoughts were going back to the idea of Luke, in a basement, tied to a chair with someone stroking his friend’s face..   
  
“Reggie. Mijo, I need you to tell me five things you can see, okay?”   
  
Five things… five things he could see. Yeah, okay. “Uh, the… the computer. The chair. The baseball poster - wait, Carlos likes baseball? Who’s his favorite player? Sorry, I’m supposed to be naming five things-”   
  
Ray cut him off, walking around so that he was making eye contact with Reggie. “Carlos’ favorite is Ted Williams. Nobody collects baseball cards nowadays, but somehow he managed to get thirty Williams cards.”   
  
Reggie laughed, smiling as his mind went to baseball, momentarily distracted from his worries about Luke.   
  
“I played when I was younger, for a couple years. My dad pulled me out, though, after-” Reggie frowned, suddenly lost in his memories. Memories of arguments, of yelling, of his dad screaming  _ What did you do to my son!?  _ And his mom countering  _ There is nothing wrong with him, you need to get that through your thick skull! Honestly, do you even think? _   
  
“Hey. Kiddo, what’s up?” Reggie was, once again, brought back to reality by Ray’s voice. Ray was nice, Ray didn’t yell. Ray let him be him, like his mom did, but at the same time he wasn’t overbearing like she had been. Maybe it was because Reggie wasn’t  _ actually _ his kid, but… it still felt nice to know an adult cared about him without smothering him.   
  
“He pulled me out after he found out about the ADD. Said that it was messing with my head, or whatever.” Reggie didn’t know why he was sharing this. Maybe it was the fact that Ray was kind and loving and everything that gave Reggie hope for parents, that made him realize that no, his parents hadn’t been the norm, and neither had Alex’s or Luke’s or Bobby’s. “Kinda funny, considering the fact that after that he denied that I had it.”

  
Ray frowned, looking at Reggie in concern, and it was like something had clicked in the man’s head. “You never got treated for it, did you?” Reggie shook his head. “Not like it would’ve helped,” he muttered under his breath.   
  
The older man looked confused, then, cocking his head to the side. “What do you mean, mijo?” Reggie glanced up at him. “I mean, all therapists do is tell you its not okay to be who you are. That’s what the ones Alex got sent to said, at least.” Ray, who Alex had come out to a couple months beforehand, looked incredibly concerned. “Some people who call themselves therapists aren’t, kiddo.”   
  
Reggie looked confused, then, staring up at Ray, who gently explained. “Real therapists help you to learn how to be okay with who you are. They can also help with trauma, too. I went to one after my wife’s death, Dr. Turner.”    
  
Trauma… that was… that was stuff like what he had, right? He remembered Bobby saying something about how parents arguing in front of their kids could give the kid trauma… Bobby had wanted to be a psychologist, if music didn’t work out. “Did she help?” He asked, his voice soft.   
  
Ray nodded. “Yeah. She helped a lot, actually.” The man paused, looking like he was turning an idea over in his head, before speaking again. “Mijo, this is completely your choice, but… I wonder if seeing Dr. Turner might help you?”   
  
He turned the idea over in his head. Would that be… would that be a good thing? Maybe it would help with the nightmares, but at the same time, couldn’t it make them worse? Then again, what he wouldn’t give to not break down whenever a bad argument happened… And maybe, just maybe, a therapist could make him feel okay with compliments again. Or could stop his spiraling, his thoughts of lips and kisses and disgust...   
  
“I…. I think I’d like that, Ray.”   
  
“Of course, son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Hey. It's been... a while. A lot of shit has happened in my life over the past, what, month? Most of which left me a mental state where I just... couldn't really write. So.... yeah. I wish I could say I'm back for good, but I don't want to give y'all false hope. I just want to tell all of you, though, that if you're reading these words, I appreciate you for sticking around. And if you're new - Hi! Thanks for reading my self-indulgent fic!

**Author's Note:**

> Follow (/harass) me on tumblr at aroallosupremacy!


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